Phone Call
by Ceu Praca
Summary: Lionel Fusco is woken abruptly by the obnoxious ringing of his cell phone at two o'clock in the morning. Needless to say, he isn't happy about that. I don't usually laugh this much while writing, and I definitely don't usually write stuff about Fusco that is purely hysterical, so I am so, so sorry; I wrote this on too much coffee and not enough sleep. Takes place after S3-E13 "4C."


**A/N:** Yay, another Person of Interest fanfiction! I was so mad at Reese for up and leaving again after Fusco went through all the trouble to bring him back, and then S3-E13_ "4C"_ didn't even have Fusco in it! Grrr...I don't usually get ahead of episodes, because I like to stay canonical where PoI is concerned, but I was so infuriated by the lack of Lionel in the last episode that I wrote this. :P Lionel is kind of hyper in this one because he gets woken up really abruptly, which gave him kind of an adrenalin rush. Try it; try setting your phone to ring super loudly at two in the morning, and see whether or not your heart rate speeds up. XD If John Reese seems slightly out of character, then I'm sorry. You can always pretend that he was drinking again; seems likely, given his current state. XP As usual, this is from Lionel's POV, and takes place immediately after_ "4C." _This is a oneshot.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own PoI, unfortunately. You _should_ already know that.

* * *

My cell phone rang next to my ear, making me jump out of bed before I was even fully awake; I snatched it furiously from the nightstand. _I swear, if this Finch again, I'm gonna shoot one of his computers!_ Caller ID said 'Unknown.' _Yep, Finch. Oh, how I hate him!_ I answered the ringing torture device.

"Whaddaya want now?" I snarled. "Can't you at least wait until a decent hour? It's-" I glanced at the clock. "Holy crow, it's only 1:ooam!"

"Sorry, Lionel," a smooth voice whispered from the other end. "It's four in the afternoon where I am."

I dropped the phone in shock, and it smashed on the floor, the keys and screen flying in different directions._ He just called! Freaking Wonder Boy actually_ called_! I thought he said he was cutting all contact for good!_

The house phone rang in the next room; and I raced to grab it. "Where have you been?" I yelled into the receiver so loud that I probably deafened the guy with feedback; it was a good thing that Lee was at the ex's house tonight.

"Calm down, Lionel," John's voice said in that familiar, condescending tone. "Try not to break this one, too."

I grinned in spite of myself. I never would have thought that I would actually _miss_ that patronizing voice until it was gone. "Where the heck are you? Four in the afternoon? Why are you calling?" An awful thought struck me. "Oh, crap, you didn't get yourself shot again, did you?"

"Shut up, Lionel," he muttered, although I could've sworn I heard him chuckle. "I'm fine. Rome is nice this time of year."

"You're in_ Italy_?"

"It's closer than Istanbul," he answered; this time I was sure I heard him chuckle. "Finch insisted that I call all of our more commonly used assets to warn them that I'm coming home."

"Really?" I exclaimed._ 'Assets;' what a load of crap! I'm his friend, and he knows it!_ "So you're with Finch now?"

"Sort of," John replied. "He's in the other room, getting things ready. We're leaving for New York in half an hour. You're actually taking this rather well; Shaw threatened to shoot me for leaving."

"I just might whack you one," I growled. "You were an idiot for tryin' to leave, ya know that?"

"Sometimes I really miss the days when your were scared of me," he said, sounding oddly amused, and then, of all things, I heard him laugh.

I stood there dumbly, astounded._ He's actually_ laughing? _I didn't know he was even capable of that!_ Without even intending to, I started laughing with him. _He means it, he's really coming home!_

.

* * *

.

On the other side of the phone, Harold Finch heard a sudden fit of laughter in the next room that made him jolt; he frowned, confused, and peered around the corner to see that John Reese was doubled over, in hysterics, with a cell phone clutched in his hand.

"John, are you all right?" he asked, concerned.

Reese seemed to get himself under control, nodding and pressing the 'end call' button on the phone. "Let's get back to New York, Finch. I miss my job."

"Of course, Mr. Reese," the man said, quite baffled by the ex-agent's sudden behavior. "Who were you calling?"

"Oh, no one really," he replied nonchalantly, wearing an oddly cheerful smile. "Just a prank call. Fusco hates waking up early."


End file.
